


Impressed

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkward Boners, Awkward Sexual Situations, Coming In Pants, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 11:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20081182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: Barba and Carisi, due to a dare, are handcuffed together in Barba's closet with Carisi sitting on the other man's lap. Sex stuff happens. (I did a Barson version of this, called "Nothing to Prove," and decided it should be adapted for Barisi)





	Impressed

“How the hell did you let this happen, Detective?”

“_Me_? I’m not in here by myself—”

“It wasn’t even your dare!” Barba exclaimed in exasperation. “There’s no reason—”

“Yeah, well, you shoulda said _truth_.”

“And give Rollins the opportunity to ask about my sex life? Not a chance.”

“So you took the dare. Not my fault.”

“It _wasn’t your dare_,” Barba said through his teeth. “Stop squirming around.”

“Your lap’s not that comfortable, Barba,” Carisi said.

“I’ve never had complaints before.”

Carisi fell silent for a few moments. Then, finally, he started again: “I couldn’t _not_ do it, she’d never let up.”

“You think _this_ will earn their respect?”

“I think I already earned their respect,” Carisi said, and Barba could hear the note of hurt in his voice. He almost apologized, but then Carisi wiggled again and Barba felt a new rush of annoyance. “Anyway, what’s the big deal? We’re forty years old—”

“Speak for yourself.”

“I was averaging.”

“You’re terrible at math.”

“Either way, we work together and we’re friends so I don’t get why you’re so upset.”

_We’re not friends_ rose to Barba’s lips, but he bit the words back. They were mean, and not entirely true. “I’m annoyed that you’re incapable of refusing a dare, even though you have nothing to prove—what’re you doing?”

Carisi raised his right hand; there was a small metallic jangle from the cuffs, and Barba’s hand rose with the other man’s. “My nose itches,” Carisi said, scratching at his nose while Barba’s hand hovered nearby. Their left hands, also cuffed together, rested on Carisi’s left thigh—Barba’s with his palm up and fingers curled. The effort to avoid touching Carisi inappropriately was funny considering Carisi was sitting on Barba’s lap, in a dark closet, while their friends and coworkers got steadily drunker in the living room of Barba’s apartment.

“_Stop squirming_.”

“How long we been in here?”

“Two minutes longer than the last time you asked.”

“How do you know? You can’t see—”

“Then why’d you ask?

Carisi didn’t answer.

Barba sighed and tried to shift beneath him.

“You gonna say I got a bony ass?” Carisi asked.

“I can assure you I have no intention of saying _anything_ about your ass.”

“I used to be real self-conscious about it.”

Barba tried to stop himself, but after a few beats of silence the words spilled from his tongue: “And now?”

“I don’t usually get complaints,” Carisi said, and in spite of himself Barba smiled in the darkness.

“Cheeky,” he accused.

“Thought you weren’t gonna talk about my ass.”

“Alright,” Barba shot back, using his _that’s enough of that _tone that usually got the results he wanted.

“It’s hotter’n hell in here,” Carisi complained.

Barba didn’t answer; sweat was trickling down from his temples.

“Your closet’s bigger than my bathroom,” Carisi remarked, shifting on Barba’s lap. His feet were bracketing Barba’s on the floor.

“Remind me not to visit your apartment,” Barba muttered.

“But it’s so hot and stuffy in here.”

“Continuing to talk about it will help.”

Carisi tried to look over his shoulder at the other man, but even with the thin strip of light creeping beneath the closet door, he couldn’t make out Barba’s face. “I hope you got a good idea how to pay them back for this. We should be brainstorming.”

“Could you…” Barba didn’t finish the thought, but he tried again to shift beneath Carisi’s weight.

“Sorry, I’d stand if I could but the dare was—”

“We should call this off.”

“What? Rafael Barba, admit _defeat_?”

“You have nothing to prove to them and I _certainly_ don’t have—”

“It’s only fifteen minutes, Rafael, prolly closer to ten now—”

“Detective.”

“—and I’m not about to let them—”

“_Carisi_.”

“_What_? What’s the big…oh.” Behind him, he heard Barba release his breath in a soft puff.

Almost as soft as the sound of his breath, Barba said, “_Shit_.”

“I…I didn’t…You don’t have to be—”

“Stop talking.”

“—embarrassed, I mean it’s just a—y’know, normal reaction…” Carisi trailed off when Barba groaned low in his throat. After a few seconds, the awkward silence was too much to bear, though, and he added: “I know it’s not about me, you don’t have to be—”

“Detective, if you can’t be still and quiet, I will pay you a thousand dollars to knock me unconscious.”

Carisi’s pause was longer this time. “Could buy a few suits with that,” he said, as though he were considering the offer.

“Not good ones,” Barba mumbled.

“Never guessed you’d be into the rough stuff, though.”

Barba made a choked sound that was half laughter. He knew Carisi was trying to lighten the mood; it was in his nature to try to make people comfortable.

“But you had a guy choke you with a belt in court, so I guess there mighta been signs.”

“I _would_ guess you wouldn’t be still and quiet,” Barba shot back. Carisi laughed, but Barba could hear embarrassment in the sound. “Nor would I ask you to be, under other circumstances,” he added before he could stop himself. He closed his eyes in the darkness. “Sorry. That was inappropriate.”

Carisi was silent, and Barba cursed himself as he tried not to squirm beneath the detective. Carisi was holding himself rigidly, no longer fidgeting, but Barba’s lap was filled with the other man’s heat. There was no escape. And there were no words meaningful enough to apologize for his body’s betrayal.

“Do you want me to get off?” Carisi asked after what felt like an eternity.

Barba opened his mouth and promptly snapped it shut again. A hysterical laugh was trapped in the back of his throat, and he had no idea what to do with it. Sweat was trickling inside his clothes, tickling his sides and lower back, but the burning in his face wasn’t from the heat of the closet.

“You know what I meant,” Carisi muttered, and Barba had never realized it was possible to hear another person blushing until that moment. “I can try to stand…”

Barba dropped his head forward, pressing his forehead against the other man’s back. That didn’t help—now Carisi’s scent was even stronger, and he shifted a bit in surprise—but there was no magic cure for this situation. There was no way he could get out of the closet without his pride taking some considerable knocks, so he might as well settle into the humiliation.

“Barba?”

“Hmm.”

“Do you want me to get off—up—to stand?”

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Barba said after several beats of silence.

“It’s yes or no?”

“Either would feel like a lie,” Barba admitted. He felt, more than heard, Carisi suck in a breath while he contemplated the response. “I’m sorry, Sonny. Can we just agree to never mention this again?”

A long pause. “If that’s what you want.”

Barba lifted his head to look at the other man’s dark outline. He didn’t like what he heard in Carisi’s voice, and for a moment it was more concerning than his own discomfort. “You don’t think that would be best?”

“Sure. Whatever you want.”

Barba blinked sweat from his eyes.

“There’s no reason to be embarrassed.”

Barba rolled his shoulders; his shirt was stuck to his skin.

“We both know arousal doesn’t mean—”

“Are you fishing for compliments, here?”

“What? Of course not,” Carisi said. “I just think it’s real interesting that you use my first name now when you never call me Sonny.”

“I…was apologiz—what the hell does that mean, _interesting_?”

“I don’t need you to, like, flatter me or something. I already said I knew it wasn’t because of me.”

Barba let his silence stretch out. Carisi was trying not to squirm, and Barba was happy to let him stew in the awkwardness for a few moments. “Are you suggesting I’d lead you on to protect my own pride?”

“I think you like it when I’m embarrassed—”

“You do get a cute little blush.”

“—and feeling like an idiot—That’s what I’m talking about, shit like that, flirty stuff. You go from flirting to insulting me so fast I can’t keep up and I’m sure it’s fun for you—”

“Insulting you _is_ flirting, you idiot.”

A long pause, followed by a confused: “Oh.” Barba could practically hear Carisi’s forehead wrinkling.

Barba sighed. Sweat was dripping from his armpits inside his shirt, and he wanted desperately to swipe a forearm over his face. There were far more pressing issues at hand, however. He was having no luck getting his body under control, and he really didn’t want to have this conversation while he was in such an embarrassing position.

Something had to be said, though. “You’re not an idiot.”

“You just said I was.”

Barba closed his eyes and pulled a breath through his nose. “My intention has never once been to make you feel like an idiot. But once you made it clear that you weren’t interested in anything, uh…_romantic_, for lack of a better word—”

“I made that clear?”

“Can we talk about this later?”

“You never asked me anything like that.”

“Let’s drop it.”

“No—say what you want—”

“I think it’s pretty clear what I want,” Barba said. “But if you want to pretend like I wasn’t openly pursuing you—”

“_Pursuing me_?”

“—then fine, we can pretend, but I want it on the record first that I took the hint and didn’t hold it against you—”

“Me fawning over you was a hint that I wasn’t interested?”

“Reading the room is part of my job, Detective, and—”

“You misread the room.”

“I’ve never misread a room in my life,” Barba said, and Carisi actually laughed at the indignation in his voice. Barba couldn’t blame him; he supposed his self-righteousness was ridiculous at the moment.

“Imagine anyone thinking _I_ didn’t want _you_.”

Barba couldn’t think of an intelligent response to that. All the blood had long since left his brain to gather in lower regions. “We should discuss this later when I’m not…disadvantaged…”

“Doesn’t feel like a disadvantage to me,” Carisi said, and Barba groaned. He bent his head forward to wipe his sweaty brow on the back of Carisi’s shirt. “Come on, Barba,” the detective said, once more trying to lighten the mood, “think about baseball or something. This’ll be over in a few minutes.”

“I don’t think you realize how serious my current situation is.”

“Honestly? I have a kinda situation myself. You just can’t feel mine.”

“That is spectacularly unhelpful, Sonny.” Barba closed his eyes again as Carisi’s laughter caused a few moments of friction. He shifted a little, hoping a nice hard pinch from his slacks would shock some sense into his body.

“No? What kind of help you looking for?”

“I hate to repeat myself, but if you could knock me unconscious…”

Carisi laughed again, and Barba barely suppressed a groan. “How long’s it been?” the detective asked, and Barba knew he wasn’t talking about the dare this time.

“That’s a very personal question.”

“Thought we were doing personal.”

“My current condition is not a result of chastity, Sonny. It’s because of you. To be clear. But. It’s also been a while.”

“Yeah. Me, too. I like it when you call me Sonny.”

“So, hypothetically speaking if I were to—”

“Yes.”

Barba snorted softly. “You don’t know what I was going to ask.”

“Didn’t wanna give you a chance to misread the room again.”

“I told you, I’ve never—”

Carisi shifted backward without warning, settling himself more firmly into Barba’s lap, and all the air left the ADA’s body in a rush. He made a very indelicate sound, and his hands turned over to grip the other man’s thighs. Carisi’s fingers curled around Barba’s wrists behind the cuffs.

“_Jesus Christ_,” Barba managed.

“Blasphemy,” Carisi accused lightly.

“You’re blasphemy,” Barba shot back.

“Does this hurt?”

“_Hurt_?” Barba repeated, not quite able to make sense of the word. “Uhm. I don’t—I can’t—”

“Did you want to ask me something?”

“I—Sonny, I’m—I think you’re overestimating my self-control—”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Barba fought the overwhelming urge to squirm. Yes, it was painful—his pants were much too snug, and Carisi’s weight now had him pinned against his own thigh—but it wasn’t a pain that he would complain about. Except: “We both have to walk out of here. Right now it’s embarrassing but in about two minutes it’s going to be exponentially worse.”

“This is your apartment.”

Barba waited, still trying desperately not to move, but Carisi didn’t elaborate. Barba bit back a groan of frustration and prompted: “So…”

“When they open the door, kick ‘em all out.”

Barba laughed carefully. “You don’t think New York’s most elite squad will know why—”

“They’ll know eventually anyway.”

“Eventually?” Barba asked hesitantly.

“Unless _I _misread,” Carisi said, and there was no mistaking the uncertainty in his voice. He started to shift his weight and Barba lifted a hand, splaying his palm over the other man’s stomach to hold him in place. He felt Carisi’s breath catch and a moment later his hand covered Barba’s.

Barba curled the fingers of his right hand toward Carisi’s inner thigh. “You didn’t,” he said.

“How many minutes you think we have left?” Carisi asked, and a shiver passed through Barba at the low rumble of the other man’s voice. He bent his head forward and felt a burst of frustration that he couldn’t get to the side of the detective’s neck. He kissed his shoulder instead. Carisi’s shirt was sweaty, but his scent shot a fresh bolt of desire to Barba’s groin.

“Sonny?” Barba asked, inching his fingers up the other man’s thigh.

“Yeah.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” Carisi said, spreading his knees further apart. He leaned back against Barba’s chest, but carefully.

Barba was afraid to breathe; he was embarrassingly close to coming in his pants, but he wasn’t going to suffer alone. He slid his hand higher and gently palmed the bulge straining at the front of Carisi’s jeans. His other hand ventured upward until his thumb found one hard nipple through the cotton of the detective’s t-shirt.

Carisi’s hands, cuffed to Barba’s, rode his wrists. The detective gasped when Barba squeezed him experimentally.

“Christ, Sonny,” Barba breathed against Carisi’s shoulder, trying desperately to stall his own imminent climax. “I wish I could see you.”

Carisi’s hand tightened on his wrist, and Barba obediently increased the pressure of his fingers. He traced the outline of Carisi’s restricted erection, rubbing circles over his head. Carisi was growing impossibly harder beneath his hand, and his breaths were ragged.

“Next time,” the detective gasped.

“I wish I could feel your skin,” Barba whispered, setting a matching rhythm with his thumbs.

“Later,” Carisi said, because they both knew they didn’t want to risk getting caught with their pants open. “Raf?”

“Hmm.”

“I…Could you—” He broke off in another quiet gasp as Barba’s strokes grew faster, harder, rubbing at the wear-softened denim. Carisi’s hips slid forward a bit as he sought more contact. His fingers were digging into Barba’s wrists. “Rafael.”

His legs clamped tight against Barba’s, and Barba could feel the tension thrumming through the other man’s body and into his. He closed his eyes. He was drenched in sweat and it was taking all of his willpower not to thrust against the detective. As he felt Carisi’s body beginning to writhe in his grip, Barba pulled him backward, holding him tightly against himself. Carisi bucked against his hand, saying his name again on a broken breath.

Barba’s own orgasm hit him like a freight train, knocking the wind from his chest and the thoughts from his head. He buried his face against Carisi’s back, choking back the cry in his throat, as he soaked his underwear with pulse after pulse of his seed. He’d known he was close, but he was unprepared for the intensity. He supposed part of it might be due to his limited movement, but mostly it was _Carisi_: the feeling of him quivering in Barba’s lap, the heat of his body, the scent of his sweat and familiar cologne, the ragged puffs of his breath and the sound of Barba’s name on his lips, the fact that Barba had never in his life wanted anyone the way he wanted the detective.

“Sonny,” he breathed against Carisi’s shirt. He was shaking; the tightness of his pants was now verging on unbearable.

Carisi understood the problem and tried to shift his weight onto one of Barba’s legs. Barba moaned, praying no one would open the closet door in the next few moments. He had no hope of composing himself. His shirt was drenched in sweat and his pants were soaked with semen.

Carisi’s cum had leaked through his jeans. Barba could feel the wetness against his palm.

“As soon as they uncuff us, you slip into the bathroom,” Barba murmured unevenly. “I’ll get rid of everyone.” Carisi was still clutching his wrists, and Barba realized dully that his left hand was still flattened against the detective’s chest. He lowered their hands to Carisi’s thigh.

“How’re you gonna cover your own issue?”

“There’s no sense in both of us—”

“No, we’re in this together.”

Barba smiled and pressed another kiss to Carisi’s shoulder. “Sonny.”

“I wish I could touch you.”

Barba tried to laugh, but it sounded a little whimpery to his own ears.

“You know what I mean,” Carisi said, and Barba did.

“Yes. Next time.”

“You okay?” Carisi turned his head, but Barba knew that the other man couldn’t see his face in the darkness.

“I need to get out of these pants. You?

Before he could answer, they heard the timer beeping from the other room. “Okay, they’ll come uncuff us. It’s hotter than hell so the sweat is—Raf?”

“Hmm.”

“You might wanna get your hand off my dick.”

“Oh. Jesus,” Barba said, sliding his hand over to Carisi’s thigh. “Sorry.”

Carisi laughed quietly. “After you kick them out, you mind if I take a shower?”

Sweat was stinging Barba’s eyes. He watched the line of light at the bottom of the door for a shadow of movement, wondering if they would have the decency to at least knock before they burst into the closet. The alarm was still sounding somewhere in the apartment.

“I’ll throw your clothes in the laundry and they’ll be done by morning,” Barba said quietly.

“What’ll I sleep in?” Carisi teased, easily latching onto the assumption that he would be staying the night.

“My bed?” Barba suggested. “Me?” he added, and he was rewarded by a surprised sound that Carisi tried unsuccessfully to choke off. Barba chuckled. “Unless you want to leave. I have some sweats you could borrow.”

“I don’t want to leave.” Carisi shivered as Barba kissed him between his shoulder blades. “These jeans are gonna kill me soon.”

“Mmm. Yeah,” Barba agreed, lifting his head before he could get carried away again. The wet friction in his tight pants already had him trapped in the precarious area between relief and overstimulation, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to stand up without further embarrassing himself. “What the hell is taking them so long?”

“Come on, guys, you had your fun!” Carisi called.

Barba snorted quietly.

“Okay, _we_ had our fun,” Carisi muttered, and Barba could hear the grin in his voice.

Barba moved his hand and flicked lightly at Carisi’s crotch, and Carisi grunted in surprise, twitching on Barba’s lap. Barba laughed, but he schooled his voice when he yelled, “Seriously, get in here and let us out of these things!” They waited, but there was no sign of movement. The alarm continued its signal. “Olivia,” Barba called, adding a warning into his voice even though he knew she was impervious.

“I like that tone,” Carisi said.

“I can certainly order you around if you’d like.”

“They’re not coming.”

“No shit.”

“Guess we hurried for nothing.”

Barba laughed. “Going slowly wasn’t really an option for me. This time.”

“Ooh, promises.”

“Do you think they actually left?”

“Seems like it. I think we gotta stand up.”

“Um.”

“Yeah, well, not like we got a choice,” Carisi said. “Come on, count of three. One, two—” He held Barba’s wrists; Barba wasn’t sure which one of them he was trying to steady, but they somehow managed to awkwardly rise to their feet together. “Okay?” Carisi asked over his shoulder at the sound of Barba’s muttered curse.

Barba shook his leg and sighed in relief as the pressure in his crotch lessened. His mess had cooled, and that disgusting sensation was helpful, too. “Yes. You?”

“I think I stink.”

“Hmm.” Barba leaned forward, up onto his toes, and found the curve of Carisi’s neck with his lips. He flattened his hands against Carisi’s stomach, holding him in place while he nuzzled beneath the other man’s ear. “I’ve never felt more in need of a shower in my life. Let’s get out of here.”

Carisi reached out to push the closet door open, and Barba was forced to mimic the motion. They both squinted and blinked against the light as they shuffled out into the bedroom. They looked toward the living room but couldn’t see anyone, or hear anything other than the alarm.

“Left, then right,” Barba ordered, toeing at the back of Carisi’s left heel.

“Yes, sir,” Carisi laughed, and they walked in unison out of the bedroom. Barba left as much space between their bodies as possible, painfully aware of how gross he and his clothes were.

There was no one in the living room or kitchen. Barba wasn’t sure which was stronger: his annoyance or his relief. He and Carisi made their way to the coffee table, and Barba shifted slightly to the side so they could bend down. Carisi killed the alarm and snatched up the handcuff keys. Barba felt an irrational stab of disappointment when the detective unlocked the first metal ring and it fell away from Barba’s wrist.

In a matter of seconds, Carisi had them freed from their restraints, and he dropped the keys and cuffs onto the table. Instead of stepping away, Barba settled a hand onto Carisi’s hip and once more leaned up to nuzzle the side of his neck.

“We should lock the door,” Carisi said, tipping his head to give Barba better access.

“Mmhm.” Barba slid his hand from Carisi’s hip, up under his shirt and over his stomach.

“And get cleaned up.”

Barba hummed in assent again, sliding his lips up the side of the other man’s neck to his ear.

“Do you—_ah_. Do you need help?”

“With?”

“Getting cleaned up,” Carisi said.

Barba smiled against the detective’s neck. “I definitely do.”

Carisi turned toward him, and Barba’s hand slipped from beneath the other man’s shirt. He looked up, meeting Carisi’s blue gaze, and swallowed. He searched the detective’s face and Carisi’s gaze dropped to Barba’s mouth. Barba parted his lips in invitation, and Carisi was quick to accept.

He bent his head and brushed his lips over Barba’s softly, experimentally. He tried to press his body closer but Barba shifted his hips away with a grimace. “I need to get out of these clothes. We’re both disgusting right now.” He let Carisi kiss him again, and murmured against his lips: “Meet me in the bathroom.”

Carisi nodded and watched Barba walk carefully across the room to lock and chain the door. When Barba turned to find the other man still standing there, staring after him, he rolled his eyes and smirked. He made a shooing gesture with his hand, and Carisi grinned as he obediently headed toward the bathroom.

Barba stepped into the smaller room behind the detective and locked the door. Carisi turned slowly, his throat bobbing. His gaze raked down Barba’s body, noting the wet streak darkening the front of his khakis.

“Strip,” Barba said.

Carisi’s eyes found his and he stepped forward, reaching for the hem of Barba’s polo. Barba made no move to stop him, letting the man peel the sweaty shirt up and over his head and toss it aside.

“I meant yourself.”

Carisi only smiled in response to Barba’s smirk and narrowed eyes. He traced his fingers over the dark curls of hair smattered over the ADA’s chest and skated a thumb over one nipple, his smile widening at the resultant hitch in Barba’s breath. He ran a finger down the trail of hair until he found Barba’s fly, and he started to sink to his knees as he popped the button open.

Barba stopped him with a hand under his chin. Carisi hesitated, looking at him with a frown on his forehead and a slight pout puffing his pink lips. “I’m not going to pretend I don’t want to see you on your knees in front of me, Sonny,” Barba breathed, “but I’m a mess.”

“I don’t mind.”

Barba smiled. “I mind. May I?” he asked, nodding toward Carisi’s shirt. Carisi rolled his shoulders in a shrug and let Barba pull his t-shirt off. Barba’s long fingers made quick work of opening Carisi’s fly, and he pushed the soggy denim down the detective’s narrow hips. He slipped his hands into Carisi’s boxers and cupped his ass, pulling him forward.

Carisi grabbed Barba’s waist to steady himself, his lips parting in surprise, and Barba took advantage; he leaned up to kiss those enticingly pink lips again, finally letting his tongue explore the other man’s mouth. The low groan in Carisi’s throat was its own reward, but the detective’s hands sliding down into the back of Barba’s pants was a bonus. Their bodies were pressed together, and Barba could feel the other man’s growing erection.

Barba pulled away from the kiss and glanced downward. “I’m not sure I’ll recover as quickly as you,” he remarked, cocking an eyebrow.

Carisi smiled crookedly. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright. “Guess I’m excited this is finally happening.”

“Who’re you trying to impress, looking like this?” Barba lamented, his eyes searching Carisi’s face. He could scarcely fathom the other man’s beauty.

“Always you, Barba,” Carisi answered with an embarrassed little laugh. He chewed the inside of his cheek for a few seconds before bending his head and once more brushing his lips over Barba’s, gently, still questioning, as though was wasn’t quite able to believe that Barba wasn’t going to stop him.

Barba’s hands slid out of Carisi’s jeans. “Are you going to kiss me better than that?”

Another crooked little smile. “You don’t like this?”

Barba turned the other man without warning and pushed him back against the door. Carisi grunted. “I didn’t say that,” Barba told him, and then his lips were covering the detective’s, claiming his mouth, and Carisi hummed eagerly as their bare chests flattened together. Carisi pushed Barba’s pants further down his thighs, his fingers fumbling blindly.

He turned his face away from Barba’s kiss and looked down. “Silk? These might be ruined.”

Barba slapped his hands away. “Worth it,” he said, flashing his teeth in response to Carisi’s sound of frustration.

“You always wear silk underwear?”

Barba narrowed his eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Oh, come on, Rafael. If there’s one thing you taught me it’s don’t ask questions I don’t already know the answer to.”

Barba stepped back, pulling Carisi by the flaps of his jeans. “I taught you a lot more than that,” he said, pushing the detective toward the bathtub and swatting lightly at his ass.

“Yeah,” Carisi said, stripping out of his jeans and wet boxers. “Wouldna passed the bar without you.”

“Bullshit,” Barba returned, shucking his own pants and underwear without ceremony and sighing in relief when they were finally off. He kicked them aside with a grimace. He watched as Carisi turned and bent to start the shower.

Carisi looked back over his shoulder, knowing fully well that Barba was staring at his naked ass. “Well? Any complaints?” he asked.

“_Tantum stultus_,” Barba said.

Carisi straightened and turned toward him, the crease between his brows deepening. “Latin?”

Barba smirked.

“Nobody speaks Latin.” Carisi paused. “What does it mean?”

Barba shrugged. “I don’t know, nobody speaks Latin.”

Carisi smiled indulgently. “Well I hope it was good.”

Barba stepped forward and grabbed the other man’s hips, kissing him again. He reached up and fisted his hands into Carisi’s sweaty hair, holding him in place. Carisi’s warm hands skimmed along Barba’s skin, lightly tracing his angles and curves. Barba pulled his lips from Carisi’s but pressed their foreheads together for a moment.

“There’s never been a moment I wasn’t impressed by you,” he murmured. “I’m sorry if I—”

“Hey, Raf?” When Barba lifted his head to meet Carisi’s eyes, the detective offered a lopsided smile and asked, “You like me?”

Barba made a scoffing sound. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, rubbing his thumbs over the other man’s cheekbones. “Like is an understatement,” he added, and the grin that split Carisi’s face was a beautiful sight to behold. Barba kissed him again, and they stepped awkwardly into the bathtub together with their hands roaming freely, exploring each other’s bodies.

The water was hot, but not unbearably so, and it rinsed the sweat and sticky residue from their skin. Barba pressed Carisi against the cool wall and kissed him until neither of them could breathe. His thumbs skated over Carisi’s nipples and the detective turned his head to suck in a sharp breath.

Barba slipped a hand down the other man’s wet body, lightly running his fingers along Carisi’s growing length. Carisi’s head lolled back against the wall and he watched from beneath heavy lids.

Barba’s eyes dropped to the expanse of exposed throat. “You care if I mark you?”

“Uhn-uh.”

Barba’s gaze flicked to Carisi’s and back to his throat. Carisi tipped his chin a little higher in invitation. “God, you’re so…fucking…perfect,” Barba said, and then his mouth was on the side of Carisi’s neck. He didn’t bother trying to stop the sound of delight that bubbled out of his throat; he felt like he’d been waiting a lifetime for this chance, and he was damn well going to reap the rewards of his patience.

He sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin of Carisi’s throat, circling his fingers around the detective’s erection so he could feel him hardening in response. Carisi was already growing squirmy, and the sounds he was making were music to Barba’s ears.

“_Raf_,” Carisi breathed, his fingers fumbling at Barba’s slick hips. His back arched away from the wall when Barba gave him a few slow strokes. “Can—can I suck you?”

Barba hummed in assent but didn’t lift his head. He flicked his tongue over the mark he’d sucked into Carisi’s skin. He gave the detective’s erection a harder jerk, and Carisi moaned in response, his fingers now digging into Barba’s ass as he tried to pull him closer.

Finally, Barba took half a step backward in the confines of the tub, reluctantly taking a break from the other man’s neck.

Carisi turned his back to the shower and sank to his knees with a grace that Barba didn’t think he could match anymore. Barba’s cock stirred at the sight of Carisi kneeling before him, and Carisi smiled, glancing up at his face.

“You want me to wash—” Barba started, but Carisi cupped a hand under his semi-erection and ducked his head, quickly swallowing his length. Barba made a choked sound and adjusted his feet on the wet porcelain, grabbing the other man’s shoulders to steady himself.

Carisi slid a hand between Barba’s legs, gently kneading his balls for a few moments before rubbing a finger against his perineum, bobbing his head to match the gentle strokes.

“Christ,” Barba said. He was quickly growing, hardening in Carisi’s mouth. “God, you’re good—” He broke off when Carisi’s finger ventured further, skimming lightly over his hole. “Sonny.”

“Hmm?” Carisi asked. He didn’t pull his mouth from Barba’s erection but he stilled, pausing as he waited for permission.

Barba grabbed the bottle of body wash and held it toward Carisi. “Let’s get this shower over with,” he said in a low voice.

Carisi took the bottle, but he resumed his sucking, massaging Barba’s cock with his tongue as he blindly poured the soap into a hand. He dropped the bottle and worked the wash into a lather between his hands without losing the rhythm of his mouth. Barba’s fingers curled into the other man’s wet hair. He was fully hard, now, his chest rising and falling heavily as he watched the beautiful man servicing him.

Carisi reached up and ran his soapy hands over the dark curls on Barba’s chest, slipping his thumbs over hardened nipples, sliding his hands down the ADA’s stomach and over his hips, over the curve of his ass, slick fingers pulling him open…

Barba tugged on Carisi’s hair, and Carisi obediently released him, glancing up with a swipe of his tongue over glistening lips. He continued to explore with soapy fingers and Barba—quite patiently, he thought—allowed him to take his time washing him.

Finally, Barba held down a hand and waggled his fingers, and Carisi grabbed the body wash and slapped it into his palm before rising smoothly to his feet in the spray of hot water.

Barba washed Carisi with quick, efficient strokes. He wanted to take his time, to explore, but that would have to wait until next time. It had been far too long since he’d let someone fuck him, and he’d never wanted anyone so badly. He was eager to move things along, and there was no sense trying to hide the fact.

He reached past Carisi and killed the shower. “Let’s take this somewhere more comfortable.”

Carisi smiled, trailing his fingers over Barba’s wet skin. He glanced down at Barba’s erection. “Looks like you recovered pretty well, after all,” he remarked.

“I’m sorry I underestimated your skill,” Barba answered. “I could really feel that Staten Island accent.”

Carisi tipped his head back to laugh, and Barba surveyed the hickeys he’d already drawn. He vowed to make more before the sun rose. Carisi’s blue eyes sparkled as he regarded him.

Barba, embarrassed by the adoration shining in the other man’s gaze, rolled his eyes and said, “Alright.” He stepped out onto the bathmat. He grabbed a towel and held it open. He knew his expression was soft; there was no help for that. He knew his lips were curved into a smile; he couldn’t help that, either.

Carisi stepped out into the waiting towel and let Barba dry his flushed skin before grabbing another towel to return the favor. Barba leaned up to plant a gentle kiss on Carisi’s mouth, letting his lips linger.

“I’ll meet you in the bedroom,” he murmured, drawing back reluctantly. “Supplies are in the nightstand, throw down a towel. I’ll just be a minute.”

Carisi nodded and claimed another quick kiss before slipping out of the bathroom.

When Barba got to the bedroom, Carisi met him eagerly at the door, kissing him again, and Barba laughed when Carisi turned him and pushed him onto the bed. The detective dropped on top of him, kissing his mouth and jaw and down to his throat. There was a new intensity in Carisi’s movements that Barba found more than a little arousing.

“Scoot up,” Carisi said.

Barba raised his eyebrows at the command, but he liked the authority in the detective’s voice and the challenge in his eyes. Barba shifted himself up onto the bed until his head was on the pillows.

He laid on the towel, watching under his lashes as Carisi crawled up and straddled him. He kept his hands at his sides while Carisi kissed along the trail of hair until he’d once more found Barba’s erection. This time he gave it only a few brief flicks of his tongue, however, before grabbing Barba’s legs and lifting them.

Barba grunted but didn’t object. Carisi’s fingers were strong and sure as they spread Barba’s ass open, and Barba let out a low groan when the detective bent and buried his face between his legs.

Carisi’s tongue lapped at Barba’s opening, massaging and teasing, loosening him. Barba pressed his head into the pillow, his chest heaving. His cock was already leaking onto his stomach, and he concentrated on the heat pooling in his groin. He considered telling Carisi he didn’t require nearly so much foreplay, but he decided to keep his silence. Only an idiot would turn down a rimming as good as the one Carisi was currently delivering.

Carisi slipped one lubricated finger into Barba, surprising him. He hadn’t even noticed the detective opening the lube. When the questing finger skimmed over Barba’s prostate, his cock twitched and dribbled a fresh burst of precum.

Carisi smiled in satisfaction.

“You look awfully smug,” Barba remarked. He chuckled at Carisi’s answering smirk. He watched Carisi tear open a foil packet and roll on a condom, watched him add a healthy dose of lube. Barba’s feet were on the bed, his knees bent. He might be stiff and sore in the morning, but the discomfort would be worth it.

“Need a pillow?” Carisi asked. He pushed Barba’s legs up again.

“I’m good,” Barba answered.

Carisi positioned himself, running his slippery fingers over Barba’s opening. He entered him slowly, carefully, and Barba hooked a leg around his hips to pull him deeper. Carisi dropped forward, slanting his mouth over Barba’s as he finally sank into him.

Barba made a sound of frustration into Carisi’s mouth when the detective didn’t immediately begin to move. Carisi seemed content to stay where he was, his tongue in Barba’s mouth and his cock in Barba’s ass, and he swallowed Barba’s noise without comment.

Barba cupped his hands to Carisi’s face and returned the kiss. He knew that Carisi was amused by his impatience, but Barba also knew there would be plenty of time for payback. For now, he would let Carisi enjoy his position of power.

Barba broke away from the other man’s kiss. “You taking a nap here, or what?” he asked, and Carisi’s laugh vibrated through their bodies. Barba shivered beneath him, running his palms over the detective’s hips to squeeze his ass. “Sonny.”

“Yeah, Raf?” Carisi asked with an innocent smile.

“_Move_,” Barba ordered, and with an impish grin Carisi obeyed.


End file.
